


Nothing in the World That Could Stop It

by RobinsonsWereHere



Series: The Best Things, The Richest Things [3]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, BAMF Karen, BAMF jules, Conflict Resolution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, Mild Gore, Shawn is Doing His Best, Unplanned Pregnancy, established shules, future carlowe, future gus/selene, genre-typical gore, set during s5, yes those two things go together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Shawn and Gus have been prepping for the zombie apocalypse since they were kids, but they really aren't ready.Lassiter and Juliet have been trained for almost every type of crisis, but never for this.Karen is so used to being in charge that running a post-apocalyptic bunker doesn't feel much different from running a police station.And as if the zombies weren't enough, the apocalypse has caused 'soulmate' connections, too.When the end of the world arrives, it's not what anybody expected.
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, Burton "Gus" Guster/Selene, Carlton Lassiter & Juliet O'Hara, Carlton Lassiter/Marlowe Viccellio, Henry Spencer & Shawn Spencer, Henry Spencer/Madeleine Spencer, Iris Vick & Karen Vick, Juliet O'Hara & Karen Vick, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer, Karen Vick/Richard Vick
Series: The Best Things, The Richest Things [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1360546
Comments: 55
Kudos: 45





	1. This Is It, The Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Vacancy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479347) by [Gort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort). 



> Thank you so so so much to Gort, who wrote a lovely fic with this premise, and then let me use their idea! I love writing this so much, and it would never have happened without you. Thank you!!!!

Eleven days after the world had begun to end, Carlton Lassiter is sure his life is over.

It’s almost embarrassing, really, being overrun by the undead in the station, essentially his home turf. And in the past, when he’d thought of the apocalypse, he’d been sure he would make it at least a month.

When it comes down to it, though, he’s alright with going out like this. Because if he distracts these four living dead, O’Hara will make it out. He’ll probably die, yes, but she’s close enough to the door that even a few seconds’ fight will give her enough time.

Carlton know she’ll never let him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do it anyway. He looks straight at her, holding her gaze. “On three, run like hell.”

Juliet nods. “One.”

“Two,” he grunts, ducking a decaying arm that swings at his head.

“Three.”

She takes off. He punches a corpse in the stomach. The others converge on him, but he sees O’Hara make it through the door.

Worth it.

\---

“The motorcycle is faster and can squeeze through traffic! It’s clearly the ideal zombie escape vehicle, Gus!”

“Are you insane? The three of us can’t even fit on your bike, Shawn! Not to mention, we’d be entirely unguarded and essentially defenseless against attacks!”

“Oh, come on, you could ride on the handlebars! Jules, back me up on this!”

As Shawn watches, she strides across the Psych office parking lot, opening the back door of the Blueberry and tossing her backpack in. “We’re taking Gus’ car. It’s safer.”

He folds his arms over his chest, pouting. “Are you or are you not my girlfriend?”

“I am,” she answers, her tone flat. “And that means I care about you. I’d rather not lose anyone else I care about, if I can help it.”

Shawn swallows and sighs, giving in. In the twelve or so hours since they’d escaped the ambush at the station, Juliet has changed drastically. For the past week, she’s been determined and optimistic, fighting to win. But now… she’s not even bothering with reassurances or comfort. She’s trying to survive, but Shawn’s not sure that she really wants to. He’s a little shocked that losing Lassie had done this to her, but at the same time, he understands.

“Alright, then,” he mutters. “We’ve got what we’ve got, I guess. The apocalypse kit you laughed at us for having last month is ready?”

“It’s under the driver’s seat,” Gus confirms.

“Thank you for watching too many zombie movies as children,” Juliet adds. “Gus, are you driving?”

“Well, I don’t trust Shawn with my car, and we might need you to shoot things, so that leaves me.” Gus climbs into the driver’s seat. “Shawn, we can go by your Dad’s place on our way out… look for him one more time.”

Shawn shakes his head. “Don’t bother, Gus. He wasn’t there yesterday, so he’s either gotten out, or he’s--” he shakes his head. “Let’s just go.”

He climbs in the back, letting Jules have the passenger seat. He gently squeezes the hand that rests on the center console, and she doesn’t look at him, but she doesn’t let go, either.

Gus starts the engine, and, going the speed limit, heads down the road in the opposite direction of town. “Well, this is it,” he sighs. “Here goes nothing.”

\---

Carlton wakes up to someone poking him insistently in the stomach. “Hey, Mom, is he dead?”

He should be dead. Or, rather, undead, more likely. But the ache of his muscles and the throbbing of his head and the senses of hunger and thirst all seem to indicate that he’s alive.

“He’s not dead, honey,” comes a more familiar voice. “He’s just very tired; he had to work hard to help keep people safe.”

“Like you?”

“Mhm. We help each other, too.”

The voices keep talking, but Carlton ignores them in favor of trying to think, despite his headache. _What happened? Where am I?_

He remembers the end of the world, of course. The dead bodies on the beach that hadn’t stayed dead and reaching for his gun even as he thought _if I call this in, I will sound like Spencer._ He remembers the first week and a half, in the station. He remembers being overrun.

He remembers sacrificing himself for O’Hara.

Apparently, he’s somehow made it out of that.

“Where am I?” he mumbles, his mouth feeling dry. He looks around, seeing that he’s in a car. When he looks in the rearview mirror, a familiar face gives him a mirthless smile.

“Welcome back, Carlton. Risky stunt you pulled back there. I had to drag you out.”

“Chief,” he rasps. “Thought I was done for. Thanks.”

“O’Hara got out, thanks to Spencer and Guster,” Karen tells him. “I think I saw Spencer literally pick her up. She got out… but in all likelihood, she thinks she saw you die.”

“As long as she’s alive, it’s worth it,” Carlton insists.

Karen nods once, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No sense worrying about it now.”

The car lapses into silence, giving Carlton an opportunity to look around. He’s in the middle row of an SUV, presumably the Vick family car. On his left, strapped into a car booster seat, is Iris, whom he decides was probably the one poking him earlier. Richard is in the passenger seat, gazing out the window. Just to be sure he hasn’t missed anything, he sits up and turns around.

Henry Spencer is stretched across the backseat of the car, cleaning a gun. “Hey, Lassiter,” he says, not looking up.

All in all, not the best group to go up against a world of undead with… but not the worst either.

Carlton sighs and rolls out the crick in his neck. “Hey.”

\---

Juliet finds the concept of apocalypse soulmates intriguing. If circumstances were different, she might be asking questions, trying to figure out specifics, like if the soulmate bond was predestined, or chosen, permanent, or would only last as long as the zombies.

Now, however, she can’t bring herself to care that much. It’s hard enough, surviving day to day, but she has to keep going, for Carlton. So he won’t have died in vain.

Also, the only pair of soulmates they’d met had been turned when one had been bitten on a supply run and the other had refused to leave him. So, nobody to ask questions of.

She almost wishes there was when, one day, Gus looks at her with wide, panicked eyes, and goes, “your shoulder is bleeding.”

Juliet, undressing for the night and wearing only a camisole and leggings, frowns and inspects the alleged injury. It’s bright, blood red, but her arm doesn’t hurt, and… wait a minute, there’s no blood.

As a matter of fact, the mark is shaped almost like a hand, and it’s in the exact spot Shawn had given her a gentle squeeze before he’d headed for the shower.

“Oh my god,” she says, and then, without even explaining to Gus, she heads for the tiny motel bathroom and strips the rest of the way.

Needless to say, Shawn is thrilled when she joins him in the shower.  
“Think you can keep quiet?” he says with a sexy grin. Juliet lets him kiss her, but steps away when he tries to keep going. At first he frowns in confusion, but then, his gaze focuses on her mouth, and his protests are forgotten. “Jules, your lips.”

“What color are they?” she asks, curious.

“Really dark green,” he answers, his eyes widening. “Wait a minute…”

She’s already left orange marks where she held his shoulders as he kissed her, but now she reaches out again, running a hand down his chest. “Magenta,” she says with a smile.

Shawn takes his hand in hers, and kisses the back of it. Her fingers turn lilac, while his lips leave a sunny yellow mark. “Wow,” he breathes. “Are we…”

She laughs, almost giddy, excitement and happiness rising inside her for the first time since she’d shot down the first zombie on the beach. “I think so. Soulmates.” She tilts her head to look at him, and he’s the same Shawn as always, the same idiot who used the high-pitched voice in the diner, the same sweetheart who had finally kissed her in Canada, and yet, he’s not.

The end of the world had changed all of them. Shawn is more serious, now, although his jokes still come easily. He cares more deeply, after what they’ve been through, what they’ve lost. Really, is it any wonder that they’ve been drawn even closer to each other?

Juliet lays her head against his chest, one hand on his shoulder, the other still in his. “I love you,” she murmurs.

Shawn takes a breath, so shaky she can feel it. “Yeah? You’re not… you’re not just saying that?”

“No,” she answers, already preparing to not hear it back. “I love you.”

He kisses her hair. “You know what? To hell with it. I love you too.”

Still, Juliet pulls back a bit. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he promises. He begins to pepper kisses all over her face. Juliet smiles, melting into his arms. “You know what else I’m sure about?”

“What?”

“Showering together saves time.”

In the end, they spend far more time in the shower together than they would have had they showered apart. Gus is the only one who objects.


	2. The World Serves Its Own Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn, Gus, and Juliet keep trying to survive. Karen & Co. make a few important discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out much longer than anticipated, but I'm happy with it. I think I need to not drag out events, anyway. Enjoy!

In the two weeks they’ve been running east, Karen has rarely left Richard and Iris unprotected. Traveling in pairs works, leaving two adults behind with Iris when the other two go to scout ahead, or find supplies. Today, however, she and Lassiter had found huge packs of bottled water untouched, just sitting on the shelves of the market they were raiding. They don’t need more than two or three packs, but carrying them will be unwieldy and leave them open to attack. Circling back for help from Henry had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“You can put your gun down, Lassiter, it just makes you more jumpy,” Henry says snappishly. “You’re more likely to shoot a bird than a zombie, and the noise will draw any of them within a half mile.”

“For the last time, Spencer, I refuse to call them zombies,” Lassiter retorts. “There’s no such thing as zombies. Zombies are a stupid movie gimmick. These are just… living dead. Corpses reanimated into some horrible, feral humans.”

“Call it whatever the hell you want, but when you shoot something and bring a Hoarde down on us, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Carlton scoffs. “You’ve got a whole damn armory with you, I saw the shotgun. Yeah, guns are loud, but I’d rather shoot a bird than go hand to hand with one of Them!”

“Boys!” Karen snaps. “Do you know what else is loud and liable to attract zombies? The two of you bickering!”

“‘Boys’? Karen, I’m older than you are,” Henry protests.

She turns around and folds her arms across her chest. “Then act like it.”

For the rest of the fifteen minute walk to the store, their arguing quiets to grumbles, thankfully. Karen carefully pushes open the door, checks that no undead have invaded since they left, and heads in. “Water’s this way.”

“I’ll do a sweep,” Henry grunts, pacing in the opposite direction.

Karen nods. “Don’t go too far.”

She and Carlton are literally holding the water in their arms when they hear a door creaking, followed by Henry’s voice. “Shit! Oh, shit! Incoming!”

Karen reacts quickly, but at the same time, she stays calm.“Lassiter, get out of here,” she instructs, pulling two long knives from her belt. She’d picked them up the previous week, knowing they’d be quieter than gunfire.

“Not a chance,” Carlton argues, pulling his pistol.

“Carlton, go!” Karen glares at him, her voice turning sharp. “This is exactly why there are three of us. You take the water and run. Henry and I can take out our company.”

She watches him make his decision, and he makes it quickly, she’ll give him that. His jaw clenches as he holds her gaze. Then, his eyes flit toward the sound of shuffling, groaning, and cursing. Finally, he looks back at her, nods, grabs the water, and takes off.

Sighing in relief, Karen hurries to help Henry. He’s using a crowbar against four of the damned things when she finds him, which isn’t the worst situation they’ve been in this week. Quickly, she beheads the one sneaking up behind him, then stabs it through the eye for good measure. This lets Henry bash another over the head with a crowbar, an effective if messy method. Now, they each have one.

Karen’s opponent grabs her arm when it lurches toward her, so she hacks off the hand. Problem solved. It barely even notices the loss of its limb, still stumbling toward her and swinging its fists. Luckily, it’s slow and uncoordinated. Before it can touch her again, Karen gives it the same treatment she’d given the first one.

When she turns, Henry has gotten the zombie he’s fighting onto the floor. She watches as he drives the crowbar into its skull. Within seconds, it stops struggling.

“Well,” Henry pants, “we got the water.”

Karen snorts. He’s still got the same dry sense of humor she remembers from working with him on the force. “You’re damn right we did.”

She’s a bit shaky from adrenaline, and sorer than she’d like. Still, many more could be out there, and they can’t rest for long, lest Lassiter be ambushed while he’s on his own. “Come on,” she pants, and Henry nods.

She’s still in fight-or-flight mode as they leave the store, but then again, by now that’s essentially her default.

\---

After being on the run for a month and a half, Juliet, Gus, and Shawn have figured out a routine. That routine includes night watch, with four hours per person, meaning every third night, someone gets to sleep the full eight hours. Tonight, that person is Gus.

“You should be asleep, Shawn,” Juliet murmurs, her fingers scratching through the hair on the back of his neck. Shawn cuddles deeper into her side, but doesn’t close his eyes.

“Nah, I have to be up in three hours anyway.”

Juliet laughs softly. “I don’t really understand the logic there.”

“Well, Jules, right now, it’s just you and me,” he explains. “Gus is asleep. Nobody is out there, for now. The only one listening to any private conversations between us is the man in the moon.”

She strokes a hand down his neck and over his bare shoulder, her eyes drawn to the blue mark it leaves. “Private conversations?”

“It’s the end of the world, Jules,” Shawn sighs. “We don’t work for the SBPD anymore, and besides, we’re soulmates. There’s no reason for me--” he swallows. Juliet watches his face carefully, her hand now in his.

“Shawn?”

He looks down. “There’s no reason for me to lie to you anymore.”

She smiles sadly. “You’re not psychic.”

Shawn’s head snaps up. “How did you know that?”

“Huh, I don’t know, maybe because you never mentioned an apocalypse? Maybe because you’re just as scared and unprepared as the rest of us? You haven’t said a thing about being psychic until now, Shawn, but if we were working a case this dangerous, you’d be talking to the spirits every day.” She cups his cheek, tilting his head up to look at her. “Shawn, I’m not upset. I’m not mad. Maybe I would be, if things were different, but now…” she sighs. “We have bigger things to worry about.”

Shawn leans into her, his forehead resting against hers and his words ghosting over her lips. “I love you. God, I love you.”

Juliet tilts her head up and captures his lips in a kiss. “Oh, Shawn. You know I love you too.”

\---

Lassiter stares up at the small bookstore. It looks ominous in the dark of the night.

“We need a place to stay,” Karen says decisively. “This looks empty enough.”

“We don’t know how many of Them might be inside, though,” Lassiter points out.

Henry shrugs. “We can just shoot ‘em.” After losing his crowbar inside the ribcage of a zombie last month, he’s gone back to firepower.

Richard eyes the building in trepidation. He holds Iris on his hip, who is fast asleep. “Karen, I don’t think we need a fight tonight.”

“No one ever _needs_ a fight,” she points out. “My gut says it’s safe. Let’s go.”

_”My_ gut says we’re not alone,” Lassiter argues.

Karen pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Fine. Carlton, if you’re so convinced, you and Henry go check it out. I’ll stay here with Richard and Iris.”

The two of them quietly enter the shop, holding their guns aloft. Almost in unison, they slip silently through the rows of dusty books. “Clear,” Lassiter whispers. He heads for the back room, but four steps later, realizes Henry isn’t with him. “Spencer!” he whisper-shouts. “Where the hell are you?”

“We should check the upstairs, Lassiter!”

“Not right now! We need to check the back room!”

“Yeah? You wanna be in a room with no exit when a bunch of Them come down and find us?”

Carlton glares, but the olderman has a point. “Fine. But I’m taking the lead.” Without waiting for a response, he breezes past Henry and starts up the stairs. 

When he gets to the top, he finds himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.

“Freeze,” says a human voice.

Carlton blinks slowly. “If I were a zombie, do you think I would listen to that?”

“Even if you ain’t one, there’s nothing to say you’re not here to try to steal our supplies,” snaps the woman.

Nodding, Carlton slowly holds his hands up. She scowls and plucks his gun from his grasp. Something in his stomach twists at the sight of another person holding his weapon, but he stays still and doesn’t protest.

“Who are you?” the woman asks.

“Head Detective Carlton Lassiter,” he answers. “I worked for the Santa Barbara Police before all of this. We thought this place was empty; we only wanted to stay for a night. We have our own supplies.”

His captor snorts. “You ain’t a head detective anymore, no more than I’m a sheriff. Who’s ‘we’?”

Carlton bristles at the comment, but as long as she has a gun to his head, he knows not to argue. “Myself, Henry Spencer, who used to consult with us, my old boss, Karen Vick, her husband Richard, and their daughter.”

Finally, the gun drops. “You’re traveling with a kid.”

He nods. “She’s five.”

“Almost six,” Henry adds from behind him.

Carlton turns around, scowling. “Really? _Now_ you speak up?”

“You were doing just fine on your own,” Henry snarks.

The ex-sheriff clears her throat. “Hey. Y’all can stay the night if you want. We won’t leave you out in the cold. And if you’re willing-- and don’t turn out to be assholes-- our little groups might be stronger together.”

Carlton regards her coldly and answers only with a nod. As he turns to head back downstairs, he stiffens at the sound of silence.

He forgets, sometimes, that he doesn’t have O’Hara around to be his people person anymore.

“Uh, thank you,” he adds. “We’ll be right back.”

\---

Shawn is supposed to be on watch, but the only thing he’s watching is his girlfriend. She sits at the desk, a mirror propped up on it and a pair of scissors in her hand. The desk is tilted, and the wood chipped. In two months of traveling from place to place, the motels haven’t gotten any better.

“Whatcha doing, Jules?” he asks curiously, remembering to glance out the window.

“Cutting my hair,” she answers, pulling a chunk of blonde curls taut.

Shawn watches her avidly as she cuts slowly and carefully. The look of focus on her face is intense and kind of hot. “Wow,” he comments, when he realizes how short she’s making it. “How come?”

She moves onto the next section. “Zombies like to grab things.”

“Good thing I don’t have to worry about that,” says Gus, running a hand over his smooth head. He’d shaved it the day before, saying that it was getting frizzy.

“I’ve always wanted to try chin-length, anyway,” Juliet continues. “I think I can pull it off.”

Shawn grins. “You can pull anything off.”

Juliet laughs and rolls her eyes. Shawn is spellbound by her fingers pulling at her hair, the way it swishes when she cuts it short, the way her tongue pokes out from between her lips. He watches as she finishes up, cutting the last section short.

No sooner has she set the scissors down than a loud bang comes from outside. She picks the scissors back up.

“Shawn, you were supposed to be on watch!” Gus exclaims, grabbing his metal stake.

“I was watching! I was watching Juliet!” Shawn protests.

“Shawn, stop talking, and take the scissors. Both of you get back,” Juliet orders. Shawn takes the scissors as she lifts her gun. “Ready?”

Shawn and Gus scramble to press themselves against the wall. “Yeah.”

Not even ten minutes later, they have (Juliet has) successfully ‘killed’ all three zombies. Shawn knows he’s in the doghouse, if the expressions on Gus’ and Juliet’s faces are any indicator. Jules, covered in blood and guts, stalks toward the bathroom in the corner. “I’m going to wash the _zombie_ off of me,” she snaps.

Shawn perks up at the mental image of his girlfriend in the shower. “Hey, can I--”

She twirls her gun in her hand, western-style. “Do _not_ finish that sentence.”

\---

Two months in, Karen, her family, and the people they’ve found and joined have nowhere else to go.

They’re in the mountains of Utah. Their last car has just stopped working. They’re in a national forest, so there’s not exactly any people around.

“Mom, I’m cold,” Iris whines, following Karen with her feet dragging in the January snow. “When are we gonna stop walking?”

“It might not be for a while, baby, but I’ll carry you if you want,” Karen tells her.

Iris frowns. “Nah. I’m gonna walk with Alex.”

Alex is the seven-year-old son of the history teacher who is part of Sheriff Abbot’s group. He and Iris, as the only kids here, have bonded quickly. Karen glances around to make sure Alex is somewhere in the middle of the group, so the children will be surrounded and thus protected. “You may do that,” she tells Iris. “Listen to the grown-ups and come if I call you.”

“Yes ma’am!” Iris skips off, leaving Karen to scan the forest once again.

“Kate, Carlton,” she calls out, looking for her right hand, and the sheriff. “Does that overcropping on the mountain look weird to you?”

“Honey,” Kate scoffs, “I’m from West Virginia. All of the mountains over there look weird.”

Carlton, on the other hand, squints at it. “Bunker. Cold war.”

Karen raises an eyebrow. “That seems unlikely.”

“So does a zombie apocalypse,” Kate points out.

“No such thing as zombies,” Carlton mutters, stalking through the trees toward the bunker.

Henry comes up on Karen’s right side. “Are we following him?”

Karen sighs. “Why the hell not.”

Against all odds, Carlton is right.

The gray rock turns out to be metal, with a clear seam running down the middle, as if it were supposed to open. It’s a bunker, alright.

The only problem? They don’t know how to open it.

“We could probably force it open, if we had some sort of crowbar,” suggests Daniel, a former contractor.

“But we don’t have a crowbar,” points out the history teacher.

“Well, maybe we could improvise…”

“Improvise how?” Someone else asks.

“I don’t know, don’t we have cops in this group? Could someone shoot it?”

Carlton laughs. “Even my guns can’t get through a bomb shelter.”

The voices mix and grow louder, people talking over each other. Karen can feel a headache growing behind her eye. She’s about to say something herself when Iris calls out. “Mama, look! A lever!”

Karen turns toward her daughter, intending to warn her away from the wall, when a horrible grinding noise fills the air. Iris has pulled the lever, and because of that, the bunker doors are opening.

All of them freeze, staring into the newly revealed abyss. Kate is the first one to speak.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes for how long Shawn, Gus, and Juliet can make it on their own?


	3. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more hurdles stand between out two groups of unlikely heroes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my fav chapter so farrr I've finally gotten to the good part of the story

Shawn is endlessly fascinated by his soulmate connection with Juliet. The colors themselves are intriguing, not to mention beautiful, but more recently he feels like there’s something… more. Because at night, when it’s his turn to sleep and Jules’s turn to stare out the window, he often feels a knot of worry in his chest, almost foreign, like it doesn’t belong to him. Because when he kisses her, the love that blossoms in his chest feels like it has extra, like it’s enough for two. _Is there some kind of emotional component to the soulmate thing, too?_

He learns the answer definitively around month three of the zombie apocalypse.

He, Gus, and Jules are raiding a Target, which doesn't have much at the moment. Juliet is somewhere in the freezer section. Shawn and Gus are looking for bottled water. As he’s crouching to check the back shelves, Shawn feels a bubble of panic rise in his chest. It’s not his, he’s not the one freaking out, but the sensation leaves him sure that something is very wrong.

“Maybe instead of looking for fresh water, we should be looking for water filters,” Gus suggests.

Shawn nods without hearing him. “Uh, yeah, sure. Come on.”

“What? Shawn, where are you going? Outdoor supplies are that way.”

“Jules needs help,” Shawn mutters, trying to breathe through the unnatural feeling of panic.

“Huh? What makes you say that? I don’t hear anything…”

Shawn aims his gun as he rounds the corner toward the frozen section. “Exactly.”

When they get to the frozen aisle, his fears are confirmed. Juliet is surrounded by seven armed humans, and though they aren’t turned, they don’t exactly look friendly. When the strangers notice Shawn and Gus, one grabs Juliet in a chokehold and lifts a knife to her throat. “Freeze! Don’t come any closer!”

At a loss for how to handle the situation, Shawn does what he does best. “‘Freeze’, heh. That’s funny. Get it? ‘Cause we’re--” he gestures with the hand not holding the gun. “‘Cause we’re in the frozen section.”

“Stop playing,” snarls the guy holding Jules. “This is our turf. Get out.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Shawn tries, “let’s be reasonable, here.”

_”Shawn,”_ Gus hisses. Shawn smacks him, trying to get him to be quiet.

“We don’t care about your stuff,” Shawn says. “Something has clearly been lost in translation-- we didn’t know you guys were here. I mean, c’mon, you don’t even have a sign.”

“You don’t look smart enough to read it,” comments a woman.

Shawn mocks offense, trying to buy more time. With so many of them against really just him and Gus, he’s not sure how they’re gonna get out of here. “Hey, I can read,” he protests. “In fact, I--”

Before he finds a way to finish that sentence, Juliet moves, twisting free of her captor, who is currently befuddled by Shawn’s antics. She rolls across the floor, taking out two men at the ankles, then jumps up and smashes a woman in the face. Once she makes it through the crowd, she breaks into a run. Shawn grabs Gus and does not hesitate to follow her.

“How’d you find me?” Juliet asks him later, when they’re riding the Blueberry into Utah. “Those guys were almost freakishly quiet, and I didn’t want to cause a scene and have them shank me.”

“I…” Shawn tilts his head, trying to think of an explanation. “I guess I sort of _felt_ you, Jules. I felt you freaking out and getting worked up, and I knew something was wrong. Does that sound crazy?”

“No,” she tells him, and he raises an eyebrow. “No, Shawn, I felt you too.”

He frowns in confusion. “You did?”

“Yeah, when you were stalling. I felt you get so nervous, almost desperate. I felt it here.” She lifts a hand and touches her own sternum.

Shawn nods, gaping a little in amazement. “Wow… that’s right where I felt it.”

Gus, in the driver’s seat, shakes his head. “C’mon, son. This soulmate thing just gets crazier and crazier.”

Shawn snorts. “Man, you know that’s right.”

\---

If Carlton Lassiter was the sort of man who believed in god, he would say the bunker was a godsend. They’ve been holed up there almost a month, and a few new people have found them as well. They’re numbering at almost twenty, and have settled into a routine, which includes safety patrols, and supply runs.

He’s pacing the dark underground halls, content on his own, when Henry joins him. “What’s on your mind, Lassiter?”

Carlton sighs at the interruption, but he knows Spencer won’t leave. “I hope O’Hara’s safe,” he offers. “I know she’s got plenty of guts, and she can take care of herself, but we have no way of knowing if she’s found a place like this or not. If she’s out in the open, she’s in infinitely more danger.”

Henry nods. “I know how you feel. But she’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s strong enough,” Lassiter agrees. “But I guess I’ve gotten too used to having her by my side. We’re supposed to look out for each other, and I can’t do that holed up in here. Part of me wants to leave, to go back, to find her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lassiter,” Henry mutters, his face darkening. “She can take care of herself. She’s fine.”

Carlton scowls. “How can you be sure?”

“Because Shawn’s with her,” the older man explains. “I have to be.” With that, he walks off, heading into the long room they’ve designated as the dining hall.

Lassiter only has a minute or two to process that before the next interruption.

“Mr. Carlton?” Iris asks, almost skipping down the hall toward him. “Have you seen my mom? I’m hungry and I think it’s time for lunch.” She holds out her wrist, adorned with a purple watch. “The big hand and the little hand are both at the 12.”

Lassiter can’t help but smile at the young girl. “Your mom is out on patrol, Iris,” he tells her, “but I can help you get lunch; it’s right in here. What do you want?”

Iris follows attentively behind him as he leads her into the dining hall. “Can I please have a sandwich?”

“A sandwich…” Carlton thinks the bread might be slightly stale, but he’s pretty sure they can make it happen. “Sure thing. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?”

“Yeah!” Iris’ face lights up. “But it’s gotta be grape jelly, and the peanut butter can’t be crunchy.”

“Well, then, I have just the thing for you,” Carlton says, grinning in spite of himself. “Hop on up--” he gives her a hand to help her stand on a crate-- “and take a look. I think we found the sandwich station!”

He’s not sure Iris knows how to make her own sandwich, but whether she does or not, she grabs the bread anyway. “Awesome! She exclaims as she untwists the tie. Thank you, Mr. Carlton!”

Lassiter chuckles at her delight, though he won’t admit it. “Anytime, Iris. Anytime.”

\---

Gus’ stomach rumbles as he climbs further up the hill, shivering in the cold. They’re high in the mountains of Utah by now, and snow is drifting down around them, almost fast enough to be called a storm. Hours before, they’d finally had to abandon his beloved blueberry. He and Shawn had given her the best funeral they could, and while Juliet hadn’t participated, she hadn’t forced them to hurry it up, either.

“We need shelter for the night,” Juliet announces. Gus can’t help but feel that she’s stating the obvious.

“Jules, I don’t think we’re gonna find even a really shitty motel up here,” Shawn huffs. Gus only gloats a little over the fact that Shawn’s refusal to join him on nature hikes is now coming back to bite him.

“No, we’re not gonna be able to get to anything man made,” Juliet agrees. “I wouldn’t want to risk it, anyway, after the Target fiasco. But I don’t want to meet any of Them out here, either. We need to find a cave or something.”

Gus pauses, tilting his head to regard the small cliff they’re getting close to the bottom of. “Hey, there’s a good chance we could get out of the elements over there.”

When nobody else has a better idea, they head for it. The three of them walk shoulder to shoulder, Shawn shivering between Gus and Juliet. Gus worries that his friend might catch hypothermia, but he’d been insistent on giving Juliet, even worse off in the cold, his jacket.

“Here,” Juliet finally says, her breath fogging in the cold air. “It’s just an overhang, but I’m not sure we can keep going, at this point.”

Gus shakes his head. “I can’t feel my feet.”

Shawn, of course, has to be more dramatic about it. Groaning more loudly than he needs to, he slumps against the wall, slowly sinking to the ground. About halfway down, he stops. “Ow, there’s something in my back.”

Gus and Juliet come closer, joining Shawn to squint at the wall of the not-quite-cave. Juliet is the first one to remember they have flashlights, and shines hers at the spot Shawn indiates. “Oh my god,” she gasps. “It’s a lever.”

“What happens if we pull it?” Gus asks. He’s momentarily forgotten that his best friend is the most impulsive man in the universe. Shawn has already pulled the lever by the time he finishes his sentence.

The sound of shrieking metal makes them all jump, and Juliet aims her gun at the clearly-not-rock wall, watching as it slides open.

By the time it’s all the way open, Gus, Shawn, and Juliet are staring open-mouthed at a few strangers inside, who are staring right back.

“Uh, do you guys want to come in?” One man asks. “You don’t look like zombies, and we don’t like to leave the door open; it’s cold enough as is.”

“Are you kidding? Of course we want to come in!” Shawn bounds enthusiastically over the threshold. “Man, this place is cool! What is it, some sort of bunker? Did you build this?”

Gus steps somewhat more hesitantly into the mountain. “You’re not gonna kill us, are you?”

“Not unless you turn,” answers another man. “Hang on, I know you guys!”

It’s Juliet who makes the connection first. “Richard!?”

He grins. “Detective O’Hara!”

Another familiar voice comes echoing from a nearby corridor. “What? Who!?”

To Gus’ surprise, no other than Lassiter himself comes blazing around a corner. “O’Hara! Holy shit!”

“Oh my god!” Juliet appears to have stopped breathing. “Holy _fuck,_ Carlton, I thought you were dead.”

He shrugs.”Didn’t expect to make it out… I just hoped you would.”

She takes a few steps closer, putting them fully face to face. Gus can’t quite decipher her expression; it doesn’t look like Lassiter can, either.

After a moment, Juliet swings her fist into Lassie’s eye socket. “How dare you,” she nearly snarls. “What gives you the right to prioritize my life over yours? We are _partners,_ Carlton, we are _equals._ We have each others’ backs. If we die, we die together.” Her voice breaks, the anger fading.

Lassiter, though wincing, only looks at her. “You would have done the same for me.”

She nods. “I would.”

In the next moment, Juliet throws her arms around Lassiter’s shoulders. “Thank _god_ you’re okay.”

Gus turns to Shawn, who grins at him. “Look at that, bud. We made it.”

Logically, Gus has no reason to agree. They’re still in danger, if slightly less than before. But somehow, just the presence of familiar friends gives him hope. And if this group really is going to take them in, there’s always strength in numbers.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by Shawn addressing Lassie, who’s been released from the hug. “Good to see you, Lass,” he greets, his own attempt at a hug being rebuked. “Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to know… is my dad here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mini cliffhanger!


	4. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is relieved and delighted to have found each other at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having kind of a shitty day but at least I got this done!

Henry is leaving the bathroom closest to his “assigned” bunk when he hears a commotion down the hall. It doesn’t sound like anything bad is happening, but the voices are far too lively for this late at night. Confused, Henry turns and heads in that direction. He spies the crowd immediately, but it takes a second for him to register just who is there.

On one end is Lassiter, with his arm over the shoulders of a familiar face.

Juliet is beaming at her partner, but her other hand is tightly gripping the hand of someone Henry has worried over for months now.

Gus is the other bookend, looking around the bunker in shock like he can’t believe his eyes.

In the center of it all is Shawn, is Henry’s son, _alive,_ against all the odds. Henry feels suddenly lightheaded. When Shawn finally sees him, shock and relief blossom across his face. “Dad!”

Henry grins. “Shawn! You’re alive!”

Shawn breaks away from his friends to throw his arms around Henry’s shoulders. “Dad… we looked for you, before we left… I thought…”

“I’m alright, son,” Henry promises. “I’m right here. Thank god you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Shawn agrees, a little breathlessly. “I-- wow. What a stroke of luck, huh?”

Henry lets out a shaky breath. “Someone up there is looking out for us.”

\---

Shawn knows it’s late, and Lassie had offered to find them all bunks, but he’s still running on the adrenaline shock of finding their friends in the bunker. When they’d declined sleeping quarters, they’d all split up, Lassie taking Jules on a tour of the bunker and Shawn following Henry nowhere in particular, dazed. Even Gus had drifted away at some point, seeming to know that Shawn needed some time alone with his dad.

“God, kid,” Henry says hoarsely when they reach a lantern-lit room with a pair of couches. “Thank god you’re alive.”

“Are you kidding?” Shawn almost laughs. “Dad, I-- I thought you were dead. I can’t believe this.” he laughs again, a little bit hysteric.

Henry sits heavily on a crooked couch. “C’mere, son.”

Wasting no time, Shawn obeys, for once, and joins his father on the couch. Henry puts an arm around his shoulders, and Shawn leans into him.

“I love you kid,” Henry murmurs. It’s been a long time since Shawn has heard those words from his father, but they are familiar nonetheless. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you-- if you had--”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Shawn interrupts. “We’re together now. We’re safe.”

“Yeah.” Henry pulls Shawn even closer, resting his head on top of his son’s. “We’re safe.”

\---

Juliet looks around in awe at the long bathroom Carlton is showing her. It’s not really a bathroom in the conventional sense, but more a hall of showers, just cheap metal heads sticking out a few feet from the low ceiling. 

“Why are there showers? Why is there running water?” she wonders aloud.

Carlton gives only half an answer, waiting for her to put it together. “Cold War bunker.”

After a moment, she gets it. “Radiation cleansing.”

Her partner nods. “It wouldn’t have saved them, but it’ll sure as hell help us.”

“And the water comes from… where?” Juliet looks up to the ceiling, seeing pipes running along it.

“Tanks on one of the higher floors. More water than we could’ve gotten from every store in a fifty-mile radius, and our grad student says it’s clean. We’ll run out eventually, but still, we got lucky.”

Juliet nods, still taking it all in. “Gives us time to figure something else out.”

“There’s definitely work to be done, to be able to use this place long-term,” Carlton agrees. “In the month we’ve been here, we’ve mostly worked on making this place livable again. For the first week, we were all in sleeping bags.”

Juliet shudders at the thought of only a thin layer between her and the cold concrete. “What are you using now?”

“We found some simple bed frames,” he replies, shrugging. “Most of ‘em are more like cots, some are halfway decent. They keep you off the ground, and they keep you warm.”

“Well, that’s pretty much what you need,” Juliet says. “Are there separate rooms, or?”

“They’re small, but so far, everyone has their own,” says Carlton. “Well, we’ve got a few couples who are sharing, but nobody shares who doesn’t want to. It’s cramped, but the chief says it’s good for people to have their own spaces. Helps with ‘morale’ or some shit.”

Juliet laughs at the familiarity of Carlton’s grumpiness. “That’s good.”

“Speaking of sleeping quarters,” he says, leaving the shower hall, “it’s past midnight, O’Hara. Want me to find you a bed?”

“That would be great,” Juliet agrees, suppressing a sudden urge to yawn. “Where are you sleeping?”

“I’m on a lower floor,” he responds. “Less noise, and it feels safer. There are quite a few rooms open down there, but we’ve only prepped them with cots and sleeping bags. You can change things in the morning, I guess.”

“Sounds good,” Juliet agrees. “Lead the way.”

\---

Shawn has been lying in bed for an hour, since his dad had shown him to a decent cot a few doors down from his own room on one of the floors below the ground one. They’d talked for a long time, sharing stories of what they’d been through over the past few months, and Shawn had assumed that would make it easy for him to fall asleep, once he got into bed. But it’s going on two in the morning, and he has yet to so much as close his eyes.

Groaning softly, Shawn stands from the bed and paces over to the door, feeling the cold floor even through his sock feet. He knows he’ll never get to sleep like this, not while he’s sorely missing the feeling of a warm body against his.

The problem is, he has no clue where Juliet is sleeping.

Too foggy to put much thought into it, Shawn continues down the hall, noticing that it slopes downward when he turns a corner. Soon enough, he’s on the floor below his, which is also full of doors, some closed, but some ajar, showing barren rooms that nobody has found a use for yet.

Shawn’s attention is pulled from his exploration by the sound of a door opening down the hall. He looks up to see Juliet stepping from her own bedroom, and when their eyes meet, she smiles.

“Shawn!” she whispers. “I was just coming to find you.”

“What a coincidence,” he says with a grin. “I was hoping I’d find you.”

She closes the distance between them and wraps him in a hug, her tiny form swamped by her MPD sweatshirt. Shawn rubs her back and buries his face in her hair.

“Come to bed,” she mumbles, her words muffled by his chest. “We can both fit on that cot if we snuggle.”

Shawn nods and lets her lead him back to her room, which is small and dark and has little space for anything aside from the cot. Jules tugs him onto the bed, then nestles in his arms as he pulls the unzipped sleeping bag over them.

“We made it,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Shawn agrees.

“We don’t have to run anymore.”

Shawn nods. “We’re safe.”

Her grip tightens around him. “We’re together.”

_Together,_ Shawn thinks, rubbing a hand slowly over her back. They are. In more ways than one, and in all the ways that matter. _Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama coming soon :))))


	5. A Little Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lassie does what he does best; he investigates, and gets to the bottom of things. Little does he know, the bottom of things is rather unpleasant for our favorite couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! Theoretically I'm trying to finish up an unposted (as of 3/30/20) au before working on anything else, but I got stuck with that so I took a break to pull this back out. Hope you like it!

Carlton is coming in from the dawn patrol when he sees O’Hara, still in her pajamas, heading for the bathroom. To anyone else she would probably appear relaxed, still waking up, but despite her casual posture he can see she’s still prepped for any threat at any time. He doesn’t blame her; even safe in the bunker, he does the same.

Careful not to startle her, he calls out. “Morning, O’Hara. I was heading for the kitchen hall to get some coffee, want some?”

She looks delighted. “There’s _coffee!?”_

He laughs, for the first time in a long, long time. “All sorts. Limited cream and sugar, but a hell of a lot of coffee.”

Juliet makes a noise of delight. “Oh, spectacular.”

As they walk down the echoey hall, Carlton notices colorful splotches on her hands, half-hidden by the sleeves of her hoodie. They look almost like soul marks… not that he’s had any himself, but he’s seen others.

“O’Hara? What’s on your hand?”

She looks down, flipping her hands palms up and then down again. “O-oh. Um, that’s, uh, nothing.” She tugs down her sleeves. “Must’ve slept on it funny.”

He raises an eyebrow. Imprints of sheet creases are _not_ neon pink, and his partner is really a terrible liar. “Juliet, do you have a soulmate?”

“No, no! Of course not!” Her blue eyes are wide and there’s a flush rising in her cheeks. “Of course not,” she repeats.

Carlton shrugs, gesturing for her to turn into the mess hall. “Fine, then. Don’t tell me. Coffee’s that way.”

\---

Over the next few days, Carlton becomes absolutely certain that Juliet has a soulmate. Whoever it is isn’t exactly discreet-- the colors are most often on her hands, but there are marks in the shape of lips on her cheek, bright colors like ill-applied lipstick over her mouth. She wears warm clothing that covers most of her skin, but one evening he catches a glimpse of a mark on her neck… though that might have been a run-of-the-mill hickey.

He doesn’t want to know, he tells himself. It’s none of his business. O’Hara is his friend, and he respects her privacy, and surely she’ll tell him soon.

Okay, he _definitely_ wants to know. As a detective, he detests loose ends, and this is a loose end of the worst kind. 

But who could it _be?_

(Alright, he knows who it probably is. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.)

Thanks to a bit of not-uncommon insomnia, he’s sitting in the dimly-lit library when the night patrol comes back. He hears them bid each other goodnight, and several sets of footsteps fade away down the hall. To his surprise and discomfort, one shadowy figure enters the library.

“Hey, Lassie,” Spencer greets quietly, seemingly browsing a nearby bookshelf. “You’re up late.”

He grunts.

“Um, you know, I realized something, a couple days ago,” Shawn continues. “Don’t know how I haven’t said anything to you yet…”

Lassiter holds back a groan, reminding himself that if Spencer is the worst thing he has to deal with, it’s a good day. “Spit it out.”

“Uh, I never thanked you.” Spencer sits down heavily on the other end of the couch. “For getting us all out. You saved our lives, and I never thanked you.”

Carlton waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t make it a big deal, Spencer, it was practically a reflex. Adrenaline and all that. The only thing I was thinking about in the moment was that if I held them off, even for a few seconds, O’Hara would make it out.”

“Well,” Shawn says, a smirk crossing his shadowed face, “I should thank you for that, too.”

Something clicks in Lassiter’s brain. Something he’s known for a while, but talking to Spencer about this, seeing the way his body language relaxes at just the mention of O’Hara…

“Wait a minute, it’s _you.”_

Shawn frowns. “What?”

_”You’re_ O’Hara’s soulmate.”

“Uh, yeah.” He laughs a little, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Did she not tell you?”

“No.” Lassiter shakes his head. “I saw the colors, on her hands, mostly. She said it was nothing; wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Wow.” Shawn’s voice sounds briefly flat, dull, but in the next second he’s chuckling again, though the sound rings hollow. “Wow, of course she didn’t.”

Carlton has a feeling he might have said something she shouldn’t. “Everything… good, Spencer?”

Shawn gives a very un-Shawn-like smile. “Oh, yeah, absolutely. I’m just… tired. G’night, Lass.”

He sighs at the nickname. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

\---

Shawn tugs off his shirt, debating going to the effort to put another one on. Yes, he’ll be cold if he doesn’t, but right now all he feels like doing is burying himself in the pillows on his cot. Cold will help him wallow in his misery, anyway.

Just as he’s deciding to forego the shirt, there’s a quiet knock at his door. He groans, already knowing who it is.

“Come in,” he calls, trying to hide the resignation in his voice.

Juliet slips into the small room, and he can’t help but soften at the sight of her. She’s wearing a sweatshirt, leggings, and tall wool socks that come almost up to her knees. If this were a normal night, Shawn would tease her about being cold and then wrap her in his arms to warm her up. Tonight, he’s not exactly in the mood for that.

It’s never occurred to him to worry about this before, but now he finds himself wondering if she’s truly so cold or if she wears long sleeves and pants to hide the incriminating marks on her skin.

Juliet looks at him with concern in her gaze, licking her lips almost nervously as she watches him. “Shawn? Are you okay?”

“Of course,” he says, trying to summon his normal bravado. “I’m great, Jules. You don’t even need to ask.”

“Okay,” she says, softly, slowly. “I just thought… well, we’ve been sleeping together recently, I was worried when you didn’t show up.”

He shakes his head, looking down so he doesn’t have to fake a smile. “I’m just tired. Think I’ll pass out here tonight.” He almost winces when Juliet sits down on the frame of his cot.

“I don’t mind using your room.”

Shawn sighs. “I think I need some space tonight.” Another wince; too close to what he really thinks. “I mean, it’s just, these things are small. So, literal space.”

Juliet leans over, looking him in the eye, and he can feel her worry in his chest. For the first time, it feels foreign there. “Shawn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

She reaches for his hand; he pulls it away. At this, she straightens, her hands slipping into the pocket of her sweatshirt as she hunches, almost defensively. “Stop that,” she says, sounding hurt. “I know you’re upset about something, babe. I can _feel_ you. We’re soulmates.”

“Oh, are we?” Shawn is tired and a bit angry; she’s pushed him over the edge and there’s no going back now. “I thought you didn’t want that to be public knowledge.”

Juliet recoils. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell Lassie, Jules?” Shawn folds his arms, giving her an accusing stare. “No, it’s not just that you didn’t tell him, it’s that you actively lied about us. Why?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly not having an answer. Shawn keeps pushing.

“What, are you embarrassed by me? You don’t want anyone to know you’ve lowered yourself to my level? Is that it?”

“Shawn, you and Carlton despise each other,” Juliet protests. Her voice is quiet, helpless. “I didn’t want to cause unnecessary trouble.”

He shakes his head. “That’s barely a legit excuse, Juliet. Things have changed. The problem _here_ isn’t between me and Lassie.” He isn’t trying to glare but he can barely contain his frustration, the anger sparked by the sting of her betrayal. He sees her flinch at his gaze. “The problem here is between me and you.”

“Shawn, I’m sorry,” she says, almost pleading. “I wasn’t thinking about _us,_ I was just thinking about how things _used_ to be, and how much it would _suck_ to be trapped in a bunker with the people I care about at each other’s throats all the time--”

“No, Juliet, you were doing this for you,” he snaps. “You could’ve smoothed things over with Lassie. He would’ve gotten over it. Hell, it didn’t even seem like he cared that much when _I_ told him; he has bigger fish to fry. You were being _selfish.”_

She swallows, and nods. He can tell she’s trying not to cry, just as much as he can feel the burning guilt and anguish in his chest that must belong to her.

“I didn’t think this through, Shawn,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry, I really am. I should’ve told Carlton.”

He nods. “You should have.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Not tonight.”

Juliet nods slowly, but still doesn’t move. “So, we’ll sleep on it?”

“Sure.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “And give me some space tomorrow. I’ll find you when I’m ready.”

“Okay.” She nods again, retreating towards the door. “Goodnight, Shawn.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

Shawn sighs. He loves her, too, of course he does. He just can’t bring himself to say it tonight.

“I’m sorry,” she tries.

“Well,” he says, “I don’t think that’s gonna do much tonight.”

She vanishes into the hallway. He climbs under his blankets. When he turns off the light, he is utterly alone in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of drama, some emotional angst... less life-threatening than what we've had thus far, though!


	6. Making Up & Making Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their fight the previous night, Shawn and Juliet both feel horrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not dead!! Still no regular update schedule, but it is near and dear to my heart, so I write for it when I can. Little warning for this chapter for zombie gore (not really worse than what's been in the earlier chapters) and some making out, but nothing graphic on either count.

Juliet walks to breakfast alone the next morning. She’s not on the dawn patrol today, so she rolls out of bed just before eight, taking the top blanket with her as she trudges to the mess hall.

“You slept in,” Carlton mutters, sitting at their usual table with only a mug of coffee.

She sighs. “Yeah, sure. Lemme get my hands on some toast.”

But even once they’re sitting together, with her plate full and his empty, they don’t speak at first. She forks eggs into her mouth despite the fact that her stomach is twisting in knots. She’d hoped that a good night’s rest would make her feel better about the situation with Shawn, give her an idea of how to fix things, but she’d tossed and turned and shivered all night, and now she feels even worse.

“Carlton,” she says finally, “Shawn and I are soulmates.”

He gives her a weird look. “I know.”

“I know you know,” she says. “Um, Shawn and I had a fight about it last night. He was hurt that I had lied about us. And thinking about it, I don’t blame him. I would be upset, too.”

Her partner shrugs. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Juliet admits, with a shrug of her own. “I just… felt like you should know. Like I shouldn’t keep the secret anymore.” She sighs, sipping her coffee. “We’re soulmates, yeah, and we were dating before that. Remember, way back before all of this, when I went out with Declan Rand?”

Carlton’s brow furrows. “Vaguely.”

“Well, when I broke up with him, it was because I realized… I realized I loved Shawn. We got together a little after that. Back then we weren’t telling anybody because of work, but now… none of that matters anymore.”

“Yeah,” her partner mutters. She sees him look down and realizes he still wears his badge at the waist of his jeans. “I guess it doesn’t.”

\---

If there’s one thing to take Shawn’s mind off of everything with Jules, it’s zombies.

“Gus, get behind me!” he yells. Gus obligingly dives down and Shawn slams an axe into the skull of a zombie. “You’d think they’d be out less at midday!”

“I swear, there are more of them every day!” Gus takes his pistol, which he’s only recently learned to use, and shoots one of them coming up from behind.

Shawn grunts as he axes another one. “They just--” he misses the skull. “Keep--” he hits it that time, only to whirl and be face to face with yet another. “Coming!”

Gus nods, and the two of them are silent for a moment, breathing hard and scanning the area for more. All they can see are crumpled forms and a gory mess all around them.

Shawn nudges one with his foot, protected by his old biking boots. “Is it just me, or does he look... _less_ dead?”

“C’mon, son!” Gus snaps. “You know I don’t like to get close to those things. They’re zombies. They’re dead.”

“I know,” Shawn agrees, “but just-- just look. You’d think that as we get further into this mess they would be decaying _more,_ not less. But these guys look more like what we used to see on an autopsy table than a corpse exposed to the elements for almost three months.”

Gus shakes his head again. “C’mon, son.”

“Shawn! Gus!” The ‘leader’ of their patrol comes hurrying over. “Are you two good?”

“Totally unharmed,” Shawn says.

Gus nods. “Not a scratch.”

“That’s good.” He sighs. “I think we should be heading back.” The group reforms slowly. “We… we lost Victor and Andrew.”

“Shit,” Shawn says. Gus’ face falls.

The leader nods. “Yeah.” He turns to the rest of the group. “Alright, everyone, let’s head home.”

\---

By the time they get back to the bunker, Shawn feels too exhausted to waste any more energy being mad at Jules.

He’s not _tired_ tired-- it’s barely 2pm-- but the adrenaline from the zombie fight has worn off, leaving him with bone-deep exhaustion. Knowing they’re returning with two fewer people than they’d left with feeds a sick churning in his stomach.

Part of him wants to go find Jules immediately, wrap her in his arms and tell her he loves her. But she deserves more of a conversation than that, and besides, he’s covered in blood and guts. So he hits the showers first.

Once he’s clean, once he’s changed clothes, he does feel a little better. He wanders the halls until he reaches the library, fairly full at this time of day. Some people are actually reading. There’s a monopoly game going that’s drawn quite a crowd. But alone on one of the overstuffed loveseats crammed between the shelves, he finds Juliet.

“Hey,” he says softly. She jerks with surprise.

“Shawn!” A smile shows at the corners of her lips, but quickly fades. “I heard about the patrol…”

“Yeah.” He sits down next to her. “It was pretty bad today. I wasn’t really prepared for everything that happened… I figured noon patrol would be the lightest risk.”

Juliet reaches for him, but stops with her hand resting between them. “I know the feeling. I’m so sorry.”

“Jules…” he puts his hand over hers, not missing her sharp intake of breath. “I don’t want to be mad at you anymore.”

She jumps on the topic change. “Shawn, I’m really sorry… I’ve been thinking about this all day, and it was honestly horrible of me to lie about us. I mean, we’re soulmates. Something out there has decided that we are literally destined for each other.” Her blue eyes are shining. “I can’t believe I tried to argue with that.”

Although he’s already made up his mind to forgive her, the apology heals Shawn’s pain a bit. He finds himself smiling and kissing the back of her hand. “I know you didn’t mean to do any harm.”

“And _I_ know that doesn’t erase the harm I did.”

“So…” Shawn scoots closer to her, and she moves toward him as well. He wraps an arm over her shoulders. “We’re good? Because I love you, Juliet. Fighting with each other sucks.”

She smiles softly at him and gives him a kiss. “I think we’re good. I told Carlton everything, and I don’t intend to keep you a secret from anyone else.”

Smirking, Shawn pulls her into his lap. He dips his head to nibble at her neck. “Everything, huh?”

“Mhm.” Juliet’s eyes flutter closed, and she shivers under his touch.

“Did you tell him about Canada?”

“Well…” she gasps as he bites her neck softly. “Not all of it…”

“Good,” Shawn almost growls. He kisses his way up her neck and claims her mouth with his. “There are some details he doesn’t need to know.”

Juliet tangles her hands in his hair and kisses him back. “I agree… and, you know, those are some of my favorite details…”

“Well, then,” he hums against her skin, “let’s see what I can remember…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand we end this chapter on a happy note. Be sure to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought in a comment or kudos, or find me on tumblr at trixiesfranklin!


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